


The High School Excursion

by ProwlingAlone



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angry Yakov, Comedy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Drama, Hidden Talents, Ice-Skating Instructors, Identity Reveal, M/M, Oneshot, Secret Identity, Yuri Plisetsky's classmates, Yuri Plisetsky's teachers, Yuri is so done with Victor, Yuri is so done with the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9788792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingAlone/pseuds/ProwlingAlone
Summary: The high school that Yuri Plisetsky goes to, is going to an ice-rink for an excursion. Drama happens (feat. Yakov Feltsman and Victor Nikiforov) and this is the end of Yuri's peace.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set: 2017- Yuri is 16 (and has won the Senior Grand Prix for Men's Singles)
> 
> Honestly, how many people watch ice-skating? Not many. So Yuri would have been able to be anonymous for a while now-and with his personality, he wouldn’t have any friends at school.  
> Viktor is well known because he’s been featured on magazines for a while now-stuff like 'Russia's hottest guy', maybe.

 

‘Why was he here again?’ Wondered one Yuri Plisetsky.

* * *

 

_It had been a normal, extremely average day at school. He sat the back of in his P.E classroom and stared out of the window. He was observing a tree whose branches swayed with each breath of wind and studiously not paying attention, until…_

_“Ok, class! Next Monday we’re going to the ice-rink as part of our semester sports excursion!” Exclaimed his teacher (whom he had never bothered to find out his name. Besides, he was a shitty teacher anyway). He was an old man with a mousy grey moustache, was balding, fat and always wore ugly grey sweaters. Once a semester, the unfortunate students of this high school were forced to go out and do an activity. Last year it was surfing (in the cold Russian climate it was a terrible idea, and no-one hated it more that Yuri [he ended up getting sick and having to take a break from skating]). Unfortunately it was ice-skating this time around. ('Does God hate me?' pondered the figure skater.) And to top it all of, it was at the rink he practised in. Meaning, a possibility of Yakov appearing._

_“Oh, and by the way, the excursion counts towards your grades-so don’t think you can skip out on it.” Stated the obnoxious know it all teacher._

_Fuck his life._

* * *

And so he was here at the ice-rink on the dreaded Monday. He was wearing his Grand Prix jacket and he had a backpack on (which contained his skates, because he’d be damned if he had to use the substandard ones). After waiting in a fucking, long line that stretched all the way out onto the carpark (which was understandably completely empty, as his school had booked the rink for the day). He stepped through the entrance, ignoring the ticket booth on his left and stepping onto the fuzzy blue carpet. Yuri barely glanced at the familiar surroundings, as he saw them everyday (and even in his dreams). He skipped the line for the rental skates (ignoring a “Yuri Plisetsky! Don’t you need a pair?” from that teacher whose nose reminded him of a pig and smelt like shit) and made his way to a bench facing the rink. He pulled out his pair of (the finest quality, he wouldn't settle for less) skates, laced them up tightly and slipped on his gloves (he noticed he was the only one to wear them). The Punk impatiently waited for the rest of the peasants (read: other students) to get their skates.

“Alright kids! (‘What a pretentious asshole’, Yuri thought)” He clapped his hands.

“We’re going to sort you into groups now. Sasha, Alexei, Anastasia and Nikolai, your instructor is over there.” ‘Mousy Moustache’ pointed to one of the many instructors who had lined up unnoticed behind him. Said instructor was wearing a sky-blue shirt with a nametag on it and as usual, the blonde teenage zoned out until his name was called. The time when it was called was all too soon and he trudged his way to his assigned instructor-an man in his 40s-ish with an impressive beard-and upon reaching him, gave his best glare (which was actually, quite impressive, considering his diminutive size). The instructor was unfazed.

Once everyone had been assigned to a group, they all made their way onto their assigned spot on the far-right corner. Once there, his instructor gave the typical introduction, starting with an even more typical “Hello, I’m…” and a bunch of (unimportant) rules. The Ice-Tiger ignored him and idly wondered how no-one had noticed who he was yet. He was in an ICE RINK for god’s sake (he basically lived in this rink) and he was only the person who won the Grand Prix in his senior debut which was unheard of!

‘Impressive Beard’ started with the extreme basics - skating in a straight line. This was quite offensive to the two-time consecutive Junior World Champion, two-time consecutive Junior Grand Prix Final Champion and winner of last year’s Senior Grand Prix. (Obviously) he completed this task easily. Yuri paid no attention to the praises of the instructor who was wondering aloud if Yuri had skated before. He looked around and there was a surprising amount of people that couldn’t accomplish this task, over in the left corner he could see a girl struggling to even skate without holding a hand. Pathetic.

The rest of the lesson passed by quite quickly, with the teenager acing each test of skill. Any time the instructor asked Yuri something, the only reply giving was another one of his YuriGlares™.

There was only 30 minutes left of this hell, when things got worse. Very much worse. He had his back facing the entrance when suddenly, gasps and what could only be described as inhuman, pterodactyl screeches filled the air which was immediately followed by hushed whispers and not so subtle fingers pointing to over just over his shoulder. The Russian Fairy turned around, only to be assaulted by the sight of Victor Nikiforov strolling through the doors.

 

As soon as Victor entered the rink, he was whirling around and twisting his head ('Quite stupidly,' noted Yuri), left to right as if he was looking for someone. Yuri has a pretty good idea of who he was looking for. Desperately attempting to blend in, he turned back around. But sadly for the emo punk, his attempts failed as Victor still spotted him.

“YURIO!” Victor’s voice assaulted Yuri’s ears, as he waved franticly, and rushed up to the barrier with a disgustingly sappy smile. He was studiously ignored. The whispers behind him grew-what was Victor doing here and who was he calling for?

“YURIO! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!” Ignored again.

“ _YURIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_ ~” Victor called in that tone of voice and Yuri couldn’t take it anymore.

“SHUT UP, OLD MAN!” Snarled Yuri as he spun around to face him, “DON’T CALL ME THAT! YOU KNOW I FUCKING HATE THAT NAME!”

A pause. Silence. 

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE? HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS HERE?! HAVE YOU BEEN STALKING ME?”

“Yuuri told me to tell you that you are invited for dinner tonight for dinner. And Otabek told me that you had been complaining about today.” Victor was unfazed.

“…Fine, what is it?” Came the weary answer. Yuri was currently ignoring the fact that Otabek had betrayed his trust like that-he’d deal with that later (Yuri did end up sending a bunch of angry emojis through snapchat).

“Katsudon!” Beamed Viktor.

“KATSUDON IS MAKING KATSUDON? HAHAHAHA!!! THIS I’LL HAVE TO SEE!”

“Okay~” Victor smiled his signature heart shaped smile.

 

Only after that, did Yuri realise that the rink had grown quiet. Too quiet. He turned around and was met by the sight of a platoon of shocked faces (classmates, teachers and instructors alike). One heartbeat later, a brave classmate (Yuri didn't know his name) tentatively raised his hand and asked the question everyone else was thinking about.

“How do you know him?” Yuri didn’t even get to open his mouth, when the bane of his existence answered for him.

“Yurio here,” a gesture, “trains under my coach Yakov.” Aaaand the centre of attention shifted to Yuri.

“Um,” continued the classmate with no self preservation (Yuri was feeling quite murderous at this stage), who raised his hand again, “why do you call him ‘Yurio’?”

Again, Yuri got no chance. “Because it was too confusing for there to be two Yuris during the Onsen on Ice, so Yuri became Yurio!” Proudly stated Victor.

The rink continued to be silent as everyone tried to process this (most had no idea what this 'Onsen on Ice' was, but took it in context anyway). And while that was happening, a look appeared across Victor’s face and his eyes lighting up in an unholy glee. Oh no, no no no no no no no no. Yuri knew that face all too well. This face was the face Victor made before he created some sort of trouble. Nuh uh, Yuri did not like that look.

“I have an idea! Yuri,” he exclaimed, pointing one slender finger at Yuri, “why don’t you show them your skating?”

He knew it. He fucking called it. “WHAT? NO!”

Victor was (pretending to be) shocked. “…oooooh. Are you saying you aren’t good enough?” One thing you should know, if you challenge Yuri, as a matter of pride, Yuri would have to do it.

“Fine. Put on Agape.”

 

Victor hurried around the side of the rink to chat with the DJ, while all the people on the rink cleared out. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air, no one knew what to expect of Yuri. Meanwhile, Yuri skated to the middle of the rink ( he waseternally glad he brought his skates with him - what a disaster it would be to have to skate in…those clunky monsters) and stood in his starting pose. A couple of seconds passed until his ears picked up the familiar words of On Love: Agape.

Yuri raised one arm and brought it across his face, and in that moment, he was the Fairy-all lithe and innocent.

One foot in front of the other and he skates it flawlessly.

 

When the program ended, Yuri was met with applause (exactly like all those other competitions, what was the big deal, anyway? Haven't they seen him on TV?).

He brought his arms back down and was met with the sight of Victor.

“Yurio, that wasn’t as good as the one you did in the Grand Prix finals last year.” Pouted the big baby (Victor).

“IT WAS PERFECT, YOU IDIOT!” He yelled back.

His instructor asked the next question.

“You…ice skate?”

Yuri sent his most vicious glare-was it not fucking obvious he did? He just skated his winning program for these peasants. 

Victor (who noticed the glare - usually he was oblivious as fuck, answered again for Yuri) “Yes, he is the two-time consecutive Junior World Champion, two-time consecutive Junior Grand Prix Final Champion and the current Senior Grand Prix Champion.

  

Then to make things so much worse, Yakov (he knew it, Yakov was psychic) stepped in through the front doors, eyebrows were furrowed and his face an ashy grey. Oh boy, this wasn't going to bode well for Yuri. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING YURI! YOU SHOULDN’T BE DOING QUADS WITHOUT SUPERVISION!”  

Victor, the little shit, quickly escaped with a “Bye Yurio! See you soon!” and ran out of the rink towards his hot pink convertible (read: eyesore).

“I SAW YOU FROM OUTSIDE! I COME IN EARLY AND WHAT DO I SEE???” Continued Yakov, stalking his way forward, closer and closer.

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned his back to the melody of an angry coach.

* * *

 

This definitely marked the end of his peaceful school life.

**Author's Note:**

> His classmates and teachers were shocked-Agape isn't what people expected Yuri to skate to...
> 
>  
> 
> Edit 4/07/17: I SAW JOE JOHNSON AT COMIC CON, BUT HE WAS DRESSED UP AND I DIDN'T RECOGNISE HIM! WHY IS MY LIFE LIKE THIS :"""""(
> 
> Edit 25/07/17: I have discovered Skygem speaks...I now live there.  
> http://skygemspeaks.tumblr.com/post/156733406313/okay-but-imagine-yuuri-retires-from-competitive  
> http://skygemspeaks.tumblr.com/post/157153215578/you-know-running-in-the-same-vein-as-yuuris
> 
> Edit 3/01/18: I touched this piece up as my new year's resolution. Hopefully the story flows better now.


End file.
